The birth of Winter

The weightless messengers
On their way south
Are the first to scatter the news
A long-awaited birth is brewing
In the Earth’s hot, swollen belly
And the old wooden ceilings
Of ballrooms carved into
The heart of the woods will be
Washed clean of their gold
The flaming gowns of Autumn
Stripped from the bodies of trees
Now cover the floor with their
Joyous fabric of celebration
As the rain readies the soil
For a solemn, silent ceremony.
The old kingdom welcomes
A new bottomless age of ice
As the monarch of frost arrives
At the palace with a storm
Of dark, pounding hooves
And a fresh offering of
Crystal stars, he’s come to
Rest a long, shrivelled hand
On the belly of the world
Welcoming his firstborn


This poem was inspired by @peerke70's interactive story that you can find here:

Thank you to @Domz for the header image.


Update: slight rewording after posting.

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